37 'I came not here to fair Scotland
To ly amang the dead;
But I came here to fair Scotland
To wear the gold so red.'
D
Motherwell's Note-Book, pp 27-30, Motherwell's MS., pp 415-17; from Agnes Laird, Kilbarchan, August 24, 1825.
1 'O where'll I get a pretty little bird
That'll go my errand soon,
That will fly to the Queen of England's dochter,
And bid my trew-luve come?'
2 'Here am I, a pretty little bird,
That'll go your errands soon,
That will fly to the Queen of England's daughter,
And bid your trew-luve come.'
3 This wee birdie's taken its flight,
And it's flown owre the sea,
Until it cam to the Queen of England's daughter;
She's sitting in her bower-windie.
4 Then out bespoke these nine ladies,
As they sat in a ring:
'O we'll awa to the west window,
To hear this birdie sing.'
5 This wee birdie's taken its flight,
And it's flown owre them a',
And at the lady's left shoulder
It loot a letter fa.
6 She has taken the letter up,
And read it speedilie:
'O mother, the queen, O mother, the queen,
Grant this request to me;
Whenever I do chance for to die,
In Scotland gar bury me.'
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